


The Gifts of Grief

by I_dont_write_fanfic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: CS AU, Captain Swan - Freeform, Captain Swan AU Week, Captain Swan AU Week 2015, F/M, cs au week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4437311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_dont_write_fanfic/pseuds/I_dont_write_fanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma had been engaged to Liam but when he dies she has to cope with the loss along with his younger brother Killian who Emma finds herself trying not to fall for amidst the grief they are both going through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "I am always saddened by the death of a good person. It is from this sadness that a feeling of gratitude emerges. I feel honored to have known them and blessed that their passing serves as a reminder to me that my time on this beautiful earth is limited and that I should seize the opportunity I have to forgive, share, explore, and love. I can think of no greater way to honor the deceased than to live this way." ― Steve Maraboli

Emma placed the last tray of canapes down on the dining room table before she heard the doorbell ring. She gave the apartment a once over, looking for anything out of place, but all she thought was that the sunlight shining through the windows into the somber apartment was all wrong. There shouldn’t be any light that looked quite so bright and happy on this grim occasion. She hesitated for a moment, thinking of closing the drapes, but even their bright blue color seemed too joyous as well. At the sound of movement outside the front door, she quickly smoothed out the skirt of her black dress and glanced in the hall mirror to check that her eyes didn’t look too bloodshot, before taking a deep breath and opening the door. 

Killian was in an all black suit, completed by a black shirt and tie that only emphasized the shadow of the scruff on his jawline and made the blue in his eyes pop out more. His collar was already open and tie loosened and he had been leaning against the wall to hold himself up. She quickly noted not only the stench of pure alcohol, but the bottle of rum with only half its contents splashing about inside. 

“I have arrived, Swan,” Killian slurred her last name and opened his arms up in presenting himself. “Liam’s wake can officially begin.” 

Emma’s mouth hung open trying to take in this entire scene. Part of her wanted to burst into tears, because she had tried so hard to set this whole thing up on her own and Killian just comes in not giving a shit and people will simply say ‘everyone has their own way of mourning,’ but if _she_ had done what _Killian_ is doing, no one would find it acceptable. She really wanted to grab the rest of that bottle of rum and sit in the bathtub drowning herself in her sorrows, but guests would be appearing any minute. Her overwhelming emotions transformed into fury as she pulled Killian into the apartment by the elbow and yanking the bottle of rum out of his hand.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing showing up here smelling like a goddamn distillery?! Guests will be here any minute and you’re--”

“I’m in mourning, Swan,” he patted her shoulder and reclaimed his rum bottle, sauntering off towards the living room but not before picking up a tray of mini quiches to have all to himself. He splayed out in the armchair like he lived there, lean limbs stretching out on the leather and leaning comfortably against one of the wings of the chair. Emma just stood in the hallway, mouth still agape, looking stunned at this man’s complete selfishness enacted over the course of two minutes. She wanted to hit him, throw him out of her apartment, _scream_ at him for seeming to not care at _all_ \-- 

The doorbell rang again and Emma had to put on a happy face. Or was a happy face not appropriate for her fiancé’s wake? Not a happy face, a _somber_ face, but happy to be hosting the event where everyone could come and talk about what a great man Liam  is _was_. 

 _Was_. 

* * *

It wasn’t until most of the guests had left and only a few of Liam and Killian’s Navy buddies were milling about, finishing off the liquor, that Emma really started to get frazzled. 

“Have you got anymore rum, Swan?” Killian had come up behind her in the kitchen while she was doing some dishes and whispered in her ear. The domesticity of her activity and the familiar smell of Liam creeping up behind her actually made her assume it was him, coming up to wrap his arms around her and kiss the apple of her cheek while she was washing up. He did that a lot because he knew he was rubbish at dishes but always wanted to show his appreciation for her doing them. But it wasn’t Liam, it was his rum-soaked brother, and she was momentarily grateful she wasn’t washing any knives when he approached or there may have been an accident. 

“I thought you’d consumed all the rum in the city by now, Killian,” Emma tried to say without clenching her jaw. She expected his throaty chuckle in response but when she glanced in his direction she saw nothing but deep sorrow in his eyes, like he, too, had been hidden away sobbing in a corner this past week and the only way he was able to be in company of others was to be absolutely plastered. He _needed_ more rum or he wouldn’t survive this party much longer. 

Emma touched his shoulder gently, trying to say she understood, but pulled away quickly upon contact. Touching him felt too...familiar, like it brought her back to Liam, like he was right there in front of her and it was too _much_ , too close. She jerked her arm away and nodded towards her bedroom where she had Liam’s favorite rum stashed. It was expensive and Liam drank it only on special occasions. He treated it like his own little treasure, hidden under the bed only for him to have. 

“Can you just wait til they’ve all left?” Emma whispered to Killian when she showed him the stash in her bedroom. Killian nodded and walked back into the living room, loudly clearing out the rest of the guests of the wake, saying Emma wanted them gone. 

She was still standing alone in the bedroom when Killian abruptly did this, the rage and embarrassment building up inside of her that she was fit to burst. She knew something like this would happen. Every time he’s drunk around her, she’s just waiting for him to slip up, to make a mistake, to mention _that time_ that they’re supposed to pretend never happened. She’s always on edge, afraid he’s going to get too drunk and say something about it, or start flirting with her a little _too_ much like he did when they first met. 

Her and Liam had been dating for a few months and Killian came over to Liam’s place to share endless embarrassing childhood stories of the two of them causing trouble. It ended with a few empty bottles of wine and one of Liam’s favorite bottles of rum. Liam had passed out at some point, to which Killian made fun of him for being old it was past his bedtime. But Emma and Killian kept drinking, laughing, telling stories of growing up as orphans and the dumb shit they did as kids that made them wonder just how they managed to grow up into the adults that they are today. He was trying to impress her with some card trick but she had him beat, knowing more slight of hand than he did, and stealing his watch and wallet for over an hour without him noticing. 

His response was to of course chase her into the kitchen to get them back, hoping she didn’t look at the picture on his driver’s license and cornering her by the cabinets next to the fridge, pressing her into the edge of the counter and reaching around her back to retrieve his watch. It wasn’t until he managed to get hold of her wrist that they realized they were far too close, his hips pressed into hers and they both paused, breathing heavily from running around, lips parted catching their breath. His other hand rested on her hip, thumbing the edge of her shirt as he leaned into her, tilting his head. Before their lips met, Liam made a noise from the couch and they sprang apart like something had burst into flames between them. After they were sure Liam hadn’t woken up, Emma plainly handed Killian his watch back and he scratched nervously behind his ear, thanking her, and left the apartment, telling Liam the next day that he left right after they realized he was asleep. 

Before she gathered the courage to face the leaving guests, she heard the front door shut and quietness fall over the apartment. Killian reappeared in the doorway expectantly. 

“What the hell is the matter with you?! I didn’t tell you to _get rid of them!_ God, you’ve been such an embarrassment this whole time! Why did you even _come_?” Emma had lost it and was on the verge of throwing a whole bottle of expensive rum directly at Killian’s head. 

“Because I think you look quite good in black and I wanted to see what you picked out. Plus I’m a sucker for those wee quiches,” Killian was trying not to smile all too widely at successfully pissing Emma off, but the smirk only made her more angry. 

“Goddamnit Killian!” Emma screamed at him and looked to the bedside table for something to throw at him. She picked up a conch shell and chucked it at the doorway, but he ducked. “Why couldn’t you have died instead of him?” She sank to the floor sobbing against the side of the bed, trying to cover her face with her hands and her hair. 

“You don’t think I’ve asked myself that every second since it happened!?” Killian croaked as he bent down next to Emma, “Liam was the only family I had left--”

“Yeah well he was the only family I ever had,” Emma retorted, still hidden until her arms.

“Fine, Emma. If you want to act like the only person affected by Liam’s death, then go ahead.” Killian threw up his arms, but not before grabbing a bottle of Liam’s favorite rum next to where Emma was huddled. 

Once Emma heard a door slam she allowed herself to completely break down, crying until all she could taste was the salt of her tears and it felt like she couldn’t breathe anymore. She woke up some time later with the comforter pulled down over her, sleeping on the rug next to the bed. 

She heard a humming, like music was playing but she couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. She walked around the apartment until she found out the source of the sound was coming from the bathroom, the door ajar. 

“ _Knock knock knockin’ on heaven’s door”_ came through the crack in the door like a wailing whisper. Emma nudged the door open to find Killian sitting in the bathtub, cradling what was left of the expensive bottle of rum and singing. 

“You stole my idea,” Emma said quietly, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed and looking at him in the disheveled suit. His tie had been removed, thrown on the bathroom floor and his shirt unbuttoned further to show off the mass of chest hair he had. She also noticed her bathroom now reeked of rum as much as Killian initially did when he came to the apartment hours ago. 

“Are you the only one who’s allowed to sing in the bathtub? Add that to the list, Swan. Only _you_ can be sad about Liam, only _you_ can sing in the bathtub-- what else? Only _you_ can drink rum? Are you going to take rum away from me, too, Swan?” 

“For god’s sake, Killian, that’s not what I meant!” Emma huffed, walking over to sit on the edge of the tub. “Just when you showed up with that rum, I really wanted to take it and hide away in the bathtub, hide from this whole day. 

“You could’ve done that.” His words were still slurred and his eyelids were drooping. 

“Well one of us had to be sober and it certainly wasn’t going to be you.” Emma nudged him to wake him up a bit and he passed the rum to her. 

“I quite like you when you’ve had a bit a rum, Swan,” he winked at her as she accepted the bottle from him. She uncapped it and took a large gulp before standing up with her hand out to Killian. 

“C’mon, you need to shower and have some coffee if you’re going to stay here any longer. You’re making my house stink,” Emma insisted, her hand making a beckoning motion for him to get up out of her tub. He grabbed her hand and she helped him up but he just swayed into her, crashing them against the wall as she tried to help him stand up.

“Woah, hey, maybe the coffee first,” Emma joked as his weight against her didn’t lighten but his arms wrapped around her in a tight hug, burying his face in her hair and she felt him shudder. She returned the hug, wrapping her arms around him and stroking his hair.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” she whispered, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

“He was all I had left,” he cried, his voice muffled by her hair, but the words hit Emma right in the gut. She felt a lump form in her throat and her chin started to wobble. 

“I know,” her voice cracked and her grip on him tightened, trying to hold it together, “I know, but you’re not alone, okay?” She kissed his hair and then smoothed it over with her hand. He kissed her hair in return but it landed more on a portion of her neck her hair was covering. Emma stiffened slightly, startled by Killian essentially kissing her neck. Of course he didn’t _mean_ to kiss her neck. 

But then he moved her hair off her neck and kissed the spot again, letting his lips linger on her skin. The feeling left a tingle down her spine and she suddenly became aware of how close their bodies were together. His mouth moved to kiss the corner of her jaw, running his lips along her jawline until he reached her mouth and Emma felt herself holding her breath, willing him to do it, to kiss her. _Do it,_ said the arch of her back and the press of her breasts against his chest. He kissed the corner of her mouth before her body took over, the hand she had in his hair pulled at his roots and tilted his head towards her, urging his lips against hers in a hot exhale of breaths like they had been waiting for this. His hand was on her back, searching for the zipper of her dress while she unbuttoned his shirt, hands running wildly through his chest hair like she’d never felt anything so wonderful. She bit at his lower lip and pulled him closer, letting his tongue probe inside her mouth, allowing the taste of rum to take over her senses. 

They broke apart long enough to allow her dress to fall to the floor, his shirt was shucked along with it. His hands swiftly undid her bra and it felt like all at once he started to kneel on the ground with her nipple in his mouth and hook his thumbs around her panties. How did this happen so quickly? She only had a moment to question what they were doing before her leg was over his shoulder and his tongue was pressed against her clit. Her one leg holding her up was shaking and she grabbed the towel rack for purchase as her head dropped back against the wall. Emma wasn’t one for making loud sex sounds but she couldn’t help the moan that escaped of her throat as he added his fingers into the mix. Her hand gripped onto a fistful of his hair because she wasn’t entirely sure whether she was floating off the ground or not at this very moment. His fingers worked inside of her until she started seeing stars and the sounds coming out of her mouth were completely out of her control. As she grinded down against his mouth and rode his fingers, she could swear he was smiling against her as his tongue drove her over the edge into oblivion. 

When the stars left her vision she was on the bathmat next him leaning against the tub. 

“What the hell was that?” They were both panting and Emma couldn’t prevent herself from smiling. Killian had a pretty goofy grin plastered to his face as well and partially wondered why they had never done that before. Of course she _knew_ why. She was using everything in her power to try to not compare him to Liam. 

“I don’t know but you seemed to like it,” he was _laughing_. God she wanted to slap him. She pulled a towel down from the towel rack to cover herself up with. 

“ _Killian_ , we just-- you’re my dead fiancé’s _brother_ , and we just--”

“Did a bit more than what we almost did once when he was passed out on the couch the night we met?” The fact that he was right just made her angrier. Just because he thinks this was always _bound_ to happen doesn’t make it feel any less wrong. 

“ _Killian_ ,” she started, trying to stand up, only to realize she was still quite a bit wobbly from the...earth-shattering orgasm. 

“Look we can have another go if you’d like, but I think I’m gonna have that shower now, if you don’t mind,” Emma couldn’t tell which part of that sentence was a joke but Killian had gotten up and started unbuttoning his pants. She did her best not to watch as his trousers fell to the floor and his very obvious boner was showing through his boxer briefs. 

“Unless you’d like to join me, Swan?” His eyebrow quirked at her, but she managed to gain the ability to stand by now, still covering herself up with a towel that she now realized he would need for the shower. Without pause, he stripped his boxer briefs off and looked at her wrapped up in the towel, his eyes essentially saying ‘I know what’s under there,’ before he climbed into the shower. 

* * *

By the time Killian had gotten out of the shower, Emma had made coffee, scrambled eggs, and had changed into an oversized shirt of Liam’s that she often wore to bed. She was sure to include shorts underneath as not to give Killian any ideas that she was comfortable in a state of undress around him. He, of course, was sauntering around her bedroom in just a towel, scanning through Liam’s clothes for something to wear, since Emma had put his shirt and underwear in the wash and his suit in the dry cleaning pile. 

Eventually Killian joined her on the couch for some scrambled eggs and much needed coffee. 

“You alright, Swan?” he asked sincerely, as Emma had been staring blankly out over her tea for a few minutes without saying anything. How did she let that happen? It’s been a _week_ since he died, since his CO came to her door and gave her the news, and she’s in bed with his brother? No, not even in bed with him, in the bathroom, against a wall and-- But Liam’s not _here_ anymore and Killian’s the only person who understands how much that hurts and they’re both trying to navigate how on earth you’re supposed to deal with something like this. Did it happen just because of that one time she drunkenly wanted him to kiss her? Is this that instance coming back and biting her in the ass? 

 _God this is all wrong. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. You’re supposed to be_ here _. Not gone._

She bit her lip to fight back the tears building behind her eyes and the lump growing in her throat, realizing Killian was waiting for a response.

“What? Yeah, I’m just thinking…”

“Trying to figure out if that really happened or was just a really good dirty dream?” 

“Do you always have to say stuff like that? Make jokes and flirty comments? I mean one minute you’re crying in my arms and the next you’re…”

“Eating you out?” he finished her thought with a raised eyebrow and a swipe of his tongue over his lips. 

“Killian! Seriously, what’s with the façade? All the jokes and sexual innuendos?”

“Instead of simply crying in your arms and confessing Liam was all I had left and now I have nothing to live for? No one in my life? That I wanted to express my grieving through physical contact with the only person who knew Liam as well as I did? That I’ve wondered what would’ve happened if I met you at that Fleet Week party instead of Liam what would’ve happened? That maybe I wanted to find out anyway?”

Emma’s lack of response only spurred him on.

“I always thought you and him never really fit quite right. And after that night, you just one-upping me with those card tricks I thought I had really met my match. Of course, then Liam told me he was proposing and any dreams I had about you just went out the window.”

“You would have dated me if Liam and I broke up? You think Liam would’ve been okay with that?” Emma was having a hard time believing her fiancé’s brother had been harboring a bit more than a crush on her all these months. Yes, she noticed the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t looking, and blushed a little when he’d lick his lips and raise his eyebrow at her because that look always broadcasted what he was thinking. She knew he _wanted_ her, but she never thought he wanted to be _with_ her, was jealous of what her and Liam had. She couldn’t say she was never tempted, never intrigued by what the other brother had to offer, whether she had just a little bit more in common with Killian than with Liam. But they were just passing thoughts, never something she really considered or pined for. She _loved_ Liam. She still loves him. She was planning on being in love with him for the rest of her life, but what is her heart supposed to do now that his life got cut short? 

“I wasn’t opposed to finding out. Liam’s an understanding guy. Plus you were always a bit...wild for him, I thought. He never had that mischievous side to him like you have. He’s so about keeping things in order, I was surprised when he told me about your criminal background. At least now it’s happened, he can’t yell at us about it.”

Emma shoved him for saying that but couldn’t help a little smile creep upon her lips. It’s true, there are no consequences now, except for their own guilt. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma finally gets out of the house to visit with friends and tries to continue her life without Liam in it

“I wasn’t sure you were gonna come,” Elsa exclaimed with a smile when she saw Emma walk towards their table. “I know it’s still _early_ …”

“I don’t even know how you managed to get out of bed, I mean, if _I_ were you, I would just be a mess--”  
“We’re happy to see you,” Elsa tried to recover from wherever Ruby’s sentence was going as Emma settled herself into a chair and perused the menu for brunch. They usually did brunch once a week just to keep up with each other, catch up with what was happening, but it had been three weeks since the wake and Emma still didn’t feel up to it. Even now, she felt odd being in this bright, bubbly place where women all around them were sipping mimosas and gossiping over pancakes. Things like this, moving on with her regular life without Liam, it still felt _off_. But she forced herself to get up and get out of the apartment and come here, because she was at a breaking point. She had been surrounded by all his things in the apartment, _their_ apartment, and she had to get out of that space. As wrong as being at freakin’ _brunch_ felt, it also was the start of her moving on with her life without him, as much as she didn’t want to do that, this was sort of the first step. 

“Yeah, it’s…” she tried to smile but the muscles in her face couldn’t quite manage it, so she shook her head slightly, trying to regain composure, “I _was_ a mess. I’ve been a mess, but…” it took all her strength to admit this, to say his name, to even _talk_ about this, because she was sure she was going crazy. Her friends will think she’s insane, and she knows the minute she says his name, there’s no going back. “Killian’s actually been helping me with everything.” 

“Liam’s hot younger brother?” Ruby blurted out, and Emma was sure Elsa kicked her under the table for it. This is where Emma knew she was in trouble, because the minute Ruby said it she started going red. She couldn’t stop her body from having that reaction of blood rushing to the surface of her cheeks and showing everyone exactly what she felt. 

“Emma...no!” Ruby sounding scandalized might be the worst reaction she could get from this, “with Liam’s hot little brother?!” 

“Would you stop calling him that!” Ruby’s epitaph for Killian was only making Emma turn a darker shade of red. Ruby had actually clutched her chest and was looking at Elsa for a reaction, who seemed a little behind Ruby’s thought path. 

“It’s not-- That’s not what it is,” Emma was already at the point of collapse, already regretting coming to brunch, opening her mouth, even _mentioning_ this, because of course she’s crazy. It’s _crazy_ what they’re doing and just this brief moment with her friends has illustrated that. But she took a deep breath, trying to find the right words before Ruby made one more exclamation. 

“After the wake,” she’s not telling them what happened after the wake. She can barely even _think_ about that without squirming in her seat from equal parts guilt and desire. 

“He offered to help round up some of Liam’s things, go through a lot of stuff and sort it out while I was at work. He had a key. He’s always had a key. Anyway, I didn’t go to work that day. It was…” her shoulders dropped to illustration the amount of strain mourning has put on her body, “it’s been difficult, and that morning I just couldn’t...I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get up, and put on normal clothes and go to work. I called out and was, as Ruby put it, a mess. I was in a ball on my bed-- not even in bed, just on top of the bedspread sobbing. I was wearing one of his old plaid shirts. You know he had so few things that were his own. I think I was wearing it so Killian wouldn’t throw it away. Of course I forgot he was supposed to come over. He never said what day he was going to come and sort through things, but I was home, and he...found me.”

* * *

 

He felt it the moment he walked into the apartment, she was there. His stomach dropped at the sight of her in a little ball on the bedspread, curled up tightly around herself and shaking slightly. It instantly made him feel sick to see the grief she was going through, to really see it on someone else and have those emotions reflected back at him. It made him ache and hurt really deep down in the center of his very being. Is that what he looked like when she found him in the bathtub? Is this what losing someone does to people? 

Once he saw her like that on the bed he was magnetized to her, moving slowly and silently over to the bed so as not to disturb her, but quietly appearing at her side, wrapping himself around her, holding her so she wasn’t alone. The moment his hand touched her shoulder, she started sobbing, body shaking with each deep sigh of sadness she let out, as if having someone there for her finally validated her crying, or knowing that he hurt just as much made her even more upset, he didn’t know. He just held her, arms wrapped around her with his body cocooning hers so she felt safe, and he slowly rocked her, whispering small comforts in her ear. _It’s okay. I’m here. You’re not alone_. 

When her body stopped shaking, when she got the big, loud sobs out of her system, he started rubbing her back, soothing her, relaxing her. He felt the tension leaving her body, like she was free of the sadness for a moment, like she got it all out for now, and she could breathe again. 

“You know the story of where he got this shirt?” he murmured against the back of her neck, still focusing on calming her and not letting himself fall apart in the process. 

“Unh uh,” her voice thick and nasal from crying as she rolled over a bit to look at him. Her eyes were puffy and red, her face pale, lacking that usual brightness she seemed to naturally have. The way her eyes searched his face, looking him over like she was trying to figure something out, figure _him_ out maybe, that look always made him falter for a moment. With her eyelashes wet with tears, her eyes looked bigger and greener than usual, the pain inside of her illustrated by the worry lines across her forehead. It took him a moment to remember his train of thought. He pushed a stray hair out of her face and wiped a tear from her chin before continuing.

“We had a Saturday off at college and decided to go to Camden Town, because Liam had just gotten a tattoo there--”

“He doesn’t have a tattoo” Emma’s face was already screwed up into this look of disbelief that he would lie to her about this but she also expressed a hint of amusement at wherever Killian was going with this story. He held up the hand he was using to draw soothing patterns on her arm to say ‘wait.’ 

“Listen to the story, Swan,” his hand stay up in a stop position until she nodded for him to continue, “If Liam had a tattoo, I wanted to get one, too.” Emma opened her mouth to say something but stopped herself when he gave her a look. The edge of her lips were curving upwards and he could tell her mood was already brightening, even if just for this minute.

“So, you know we never really had our own clothes, we were always wearing hand-me-downs and then moved on into uniforms the college gave us, and even our civvies were usually Royal Navy-issued.”

“God, he owns more Royal Navy clothing than they have in a campus store, I swear.” Emma moaned, glancing over at their closet, most of which was filled with Emma’s clothes. 

“He was never much for fashion, and we got used to having ‘used’ clothes, so he took me to Camden Town where there are a lot of vintage shops, where we folk feel at home, but they also did tattoos in the back room.”

“Of course.”

“So while I was looking at what tattoo design I wanted to get, he was looking at these shirts,” Killian plucked at the fabric of the shirt on Emma’s shoulder as she thumbed the frayed edge of a hole in the sleeve, “trying to find one that fit him, and also trying to hold back laughter at me picking out a bloody tattoo when he was wearing a temporary one.”

“You’re his brother and you fell for that? In, what, your late teens? I’m disappointed in you, Jones.” Killian smiled at her, chuckling lightly at the memory of just how ridiculous the temporary tattoo looked.

“So, this is the shirt Liam bought at the place I got my tattoo,” Killian finished the story and smoothed out the pucker he caused in the shirt from pulling at it, his hand moving from the spot on upper arm down over her hand on her hip. Emma gave him a half smile at the story before looking down at the shirt in appreciation that it had a history. 

After a moment Emma’s head jerked up at him and he quickly removed his hand from on top of hers, assuming this was the cause of her sudden movements. 

“Wait so you actually got a tattoo? Lemme see!” In his attempts to get her mind off grieving for a moment with that story, he didn’t realize it would result in showing her his tattoo, which was on his hip. Because his body was still pressed against hers at the waist, he had to roll away from her on the bed, so he could pull the waistband of his boxer briefs low enough on his hip for her to see the small Jolly Roger he had tattooed there in simple black ink. 

He tried his hardest to focus on anything but Emma staring at his hip tattoo, as he held his boxer briefs down in a bed, but just before she looked away his cock twitched and he cursed himself internally. _Why would you do that? Now is_ not _the time to be doing that_. Maybe she didn’t notice. She has plenty of other things on her mind.

“A _pirate_ flag?” Emma asked with an edge in her voice of disbelief that he would choose such a thing, but it only made him smirk with pride as he quickly fixed his trousers and waistband in place again.

“It’s _also_ the flag the Royal Navy Submarine Service flew to signal a successful mission.”  
“So it’s a _bragging_ flag?” Emma’s eyes were alight with mischief and sarcasm dripped from her speech, she was giving him that same look she had when she stole his watch and wallet without his notice, and it was lovely to see that fire in her again, to know it wasn’t lost, so he just smiled at her, ceasing the argument about the meaning of the symbol on his hip. 

“What happened when _his_ tattoo started fading away?” 

“Oh, well he gave up the gag the moment my tattoo was finished, and I punched him in the face. There might be some of his blood still on that shirt as well,” Killian quipped in order to return to the position where her hips were leaning into his and peer over her shoulder to find a spot around one of the buttons where there was a stain. He pointed at a dark mark on the shirt and Emma took his hand and pulled it away, back to her waist where it was slung over her before. She comfortably settled her body against his, scooting back so they were touching at every curve and his arm was tucked under hers over her torso before she dropped her head back on a pillow. 

“Boys,” she shook her head with a grin on her face, “Tell me another story about him?” 

* * *

 

“Emma…” Ruby had a warning tone in her voice like a parent when they know their kid did something bad. 

“I think it’s sweet,” Elsa chimed in with a preciously innocent smile on her face, truly touched by how Killian comforted her. “It’s nice the way the two of you are able to lean on each other as you go through this. I didn’t know the two of you were that close.” 

 _Well you’d be surprised_. 

“I always wondered why you were with Liam instead of Killian,” Ruby said matter-of-factly between bites of french toast, and Emma damn near choked on her orange juice.

“Ruby!” Elsa looked at her with wide eyes while Ruby maintained a wolfish grin, chewing away at her breakfast.

“What? Tell me, when you met Killian, you weren’t kicking yourself for being with the wrong brother, c’mon. If I wasn’t with Victor….girl, I’d be all over that. Plus, we’ve all seen the way that man looks at you--”  
“RUBY!” Emma shouted at her and stood up from the table, her chair scraping against the wood, only adding to the cacophony that caused people in the restaurant to turn and stare. After a moment of glaring at Ruby in pure rage, Emma noticed the other diners staring, watching the scene unfold, and Emma couldn’t handle it anymore, “I’m just gonna go. This was a bad idea.”

With a throw of her napkin over her pancakes, Emma gathered her things and left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback appreciated!! I know some people don't quite gel with this story which is fine but please try to leave _constructive_ criticism :) Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Repercussions of what Ruby said to Emma take effect as Emma comes home to find Killian there

She couldn’t believe what Ruby said to her, what she said about Killian and Liam and thinking things were that _simple_ like someone could just switch over to dating someone’s brother like that wouldn’t come with any complications or consequences. How could she just _say_ something like that to her? It’s only been a _month_ since Liam died, and one of her best friends is telling her he wasn’t the right one for her anyway? _Now?_ Not to mention whatever she said about the way Killian looks at her. What on earth was she talking about? Gods, _why_ did she say all that stuff? 

The whole thing made her want to scream as she furiously stomped down the street to the subway. She couldn’t _stand_ it. The nerve Ruby had to say those things to her face like it was hilarious and matter-of-fact and _normal_ to be talking about her deceased fiancé and his brother like that. Like Emma could easily bounce between them and it was nothing to her, like they didn’t have feelings or emotions. Emma couldn’t even address the fact that part of the reason she’s angry is because somewhere, back in the recesses of her mind, she had had those same thoughts, _briefly_ , just flickers across her synapses and they were gone. 

Ruby didn’t even know about the moment between Emma and Killian when they first met and something almost happened, but it was _like_ she knew and was just teasing Emma with all these ‘what if’ thoughts that she shouldn’t even be thinking about. But there was no point in those thoughts because they didn’t happen and that’s not reality. The reality was her fiancé is dead and now she’s wrapped up in some emotional and sexual conundrum with his brother because of _him,_ because _he’s not here anymore_. The reality is nothing like a what if scenario at all, because reality is way more fucked up than anything anyone could ever imagine or dream. 

It didn’t help that when she got home, Killian was there, looking through their cookbooks of all things, and when Emma saw this she dropped her purse and keys on the floor. Killian looked up from the books to see her walking towards him in a blind rage. 

“Fleet Week party,” she barked at him, sticking up an accusatory finger, and his face instantly went white. “You said you always wondered what would’ve happened if you were at that Fleet Week party where I met Liam, so c’mon,” she licked her lips and her hands made beckoning gestures at him, inviting him speak, “what would’ve happened, huh?” 

Killian calmly closed the book he had been perusing and sat back in the chair, contemplating and studying her for a minute. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth and ran his palm down the side of his face, his stubble eliciting a scratchy sound that interrupted the tense silence. He could tell she was fired up and angry about something. She was picking a fight, but not engaging was just as bad of an option as engaging and talking it out, even if it were at a higher decibel than he would like. Of course, he took too long to respond to her demand, so she began answering her own question with a series of accusations,

“You think I would’ve chosen _you_ over him?”

Killian flinched at the suggestion, because he could tell from her tone she thought the idea to be pure insanity. Every insecurity, every terrible thing he thought about himself started bubbling to the surface, like she was purposefully shaking him up, wanting to get a rise out of him, so he’d explode, and it was working. 

“You think if I met you first, everything would be _different_?”

His chest tightened and he could feel all his muscles start to twist and compress like he was forgetting to breathe. His whole body was in a state of tension that he couldn’t relax himself from, like a piano wire tightening to the point of snapping.

“If I wanted you more that night and chose you over him, then what?”

His fists were balled so tight his knuckles were white and his arms were shaking from holding all the tension and anger inside of him.

“Liam would still be _alive_?”

It was like she was voicing his inner thoughts, finally screaming all the things he had been asking himself for what felt like forever and someone finally found them out and was using them against him, finally calling him out for being such a pathetic excuse for a human being. He couldn’t keep it all inside anymore. 

“You think you’re better than _him_?”

The wire snapped.

“OF COURSE I’M NOT BETTER THAN HIM! I’M THE WHOLE REASON HE’S DEAD!” he bellowed it at her and it felt like everything in the apartment shook from the volume. He had stood up from his chair at this point but hadn’t moved from his spot, his chest was heaving from the strain of holding in his anxieties and he looked broader, taller. His anger wasn’t directed at her, though, it was at himself.

“ _What_ are you talking about?” she shook her head, staring at him blankly, because Killian had no part in Liam’s operation. Emma was pretty certain they were entirely different divisions, though she knew very little about Killian’s position on the crew.

“If I just had the balls to join the divers like him, then I could’ve been there! I could’ve stopped him!” Killian sank back into the chair with his head in his hands, fingers digging into his hair and pulling at the ends of it in frustration. After a few moments, as if disappointed in failing to yank all his hair out, Killian slammed his fists on the table. Emma was approaching the kitchen table slowly, but still kept the table between them to maintain some distance. 

“Killian, Liam’s _job_ was to disarm mines underwater. You can’t blame yourself for not being there any more than I can blame myself for dating someone with such a dangerous career in the first place,” she dropped the hand she was gesticulating with onto the table and Killian looked up at her, like he had just noticed she was there. 

“You really hadn’t been engaged that long,” Killian mumbled like he was continuing a completely different conversation from a few days ago. Emma’s face screwed up into this look of disbelief that he was bringing this up out of the blue, like it even mattered anymore. 

“You keep acting like I’m not allowed to be sad about his death, because what? Because we weren’t married yet so our relationship didn’t _count_ or something?”

“You barely knew him, Emma! You got engaged after a _year_ , half of which he spent deployed, I mean, how did you even fall in _love_ that quickly?”  
“I dunno, how long was it before you fell in love with _me_?” 

They both had been leaning forward in their seats at the table, but at this, Killian stopped with his mouth hung open like he was mid-sentence and suddenly someone hit pause. He bit his lower lip and leaned back in his chair, slinging his arm over the back of it to really get comfortable before releasing his lower lip from between his teeth. 

“Curious way to evade the question, Swan,” Killian noted, his eyebrow raising slightly as his tongue poked the inside of his cheek. Her face was red from the shouting, but he could see the shade turn into guilt once more. She didn’t need to prove anything to him, he was simply interested in finding out how much of a line he had crossed by engaging in sexual acts with her at his brother’s wake. 

He always had a feeling their engagement was premature, like their relationship didn’t entirely make sense, and they just stayed together because it was easy with Emma being so independent and Liam being away a lot, so they didn’t have time to fight. Killian was never really sure Liam even loved her that much or if Emma was just the first woman who put up with him long enough for him to take action. Liam and Killian always looked out for each other, and if they both had an eye on the same girl, one of them would do the honorable thing and step aside for their brother. They rarely had any overlapping female interests, so this problem hadn’t come up often, and by the time Killian met Emma, she and Liam had already been dating for a few weeks. 

But Killian always wondered what would’ve happened if they met her at the same time. It made him wonder if Liam would’ve stepped aside, if Killian kissed Emma while Liam was asleep on the couch and woke up to see them, would he have stepped aside? At every point in their relationship, Killian would look at how Liam and Emma were around each other, and every time he was sure, even then, Liam would’ve stepped aside. That’s how little spark Killian saw between them. They were amicable and comfortable around each other, but they never seemed in love, _truly_ in love with each other. It always felt like a fling to him, so when Emma said ‘dating someone with a dangerous career’ he realized maybe she felt that it wasn’t as serious as they had made it out to be, that they were just playing house when they did see each other, and marriage just seemed like the next logical step. Would they have even gotten married, eventually, or would they have realized they were never really right for each other when they tried to start planning it? All these thoughts made Killian think what he did with Emma wasn’t so horrible, wasn’t such a betrayal. 

“Why are you always here, Killian?” Her voice had dropped to a quieter tone of annoyance, more like it was painful to ask. 

“I’m not, you’ve just got good timing, love,” his hand itched to move across the table and cover hers, but he stayed leaned back in the chair, attempting nonchalance. 

“Well, I thought you’d be done going through Liam’s stuff by now, and it seems like every time I’m home, so are you, and it just makes everything more...difficult.” She looked exhausted now, like something was conflicting her and he wanted to ask what, but he could tell his presence was a bother to her. The realization made his stomach flip in disappointment and he scratched behind his ear for a moment before getting up from the table.

“Fine, just show me where his bag is and I’ll get the rest of his stuff out of your way, so you can move on with your life like we were never in it.” He started gathering the cookbooks, taking the notes he’d written down from them and cleaning up the things he had taken out from the cabinets. He didn’t want to look at her because he knew what he just said was a low jab, he simply busied himself with organizing things into a small pile to take with him. 

“Killian,” Emma reasoned, like he was being overdramatic while implying she didn’t care about him or Liam, “I don’t want--”

He wanted to know _what_ she wanted but he didn’t want to demand that of her, knowing it would just launch them into another shouting match or stand-off. Instead, he busied himself with putting away the cookbooks very slowly, pretending to pour over them on the counter with his back to her. 

“You don’t have to go,” she approached the counter and put her hand out next to the cookbooks like she wanted to find the courage to touch him but the counter was as far as she got, “It’s just that...I’m getting used to having you around. It’s like he’s still here, but eventually, you’re going to leave, too and then I’ll _really_ have to deal with his death...on my own.”

Killian looked up to meet her eyes, bright green orbs filled with pain and brimming with tears, and it made him ache all over again, like when he found her in a ball on her bed. He couldn’t help but take her in his arms and hold her again now, cupping the back of her head and whispering soothing things in her ear.

“I’m not going anywhere, Swan,” he whispered, rubbing her back and holding her closely against his chest.

* * *

 

She let him sleep at the apartment that night, knowing he had been spending his nights on the boat him and Liam shared. She imagined that was just as difficult and filled with memories as the apartment she shared with Liam, and understood the need to have someone else around to lean on. Before she went to bed she noticed he was wearing a pair of Liam’s pajama bottoms and stopped in her tracks.

“Are you just pilfering his clothes little by little, thinking no one would notice?”

“He’s not going to wear them,” Killian shrugged and pulled his shirt over his head. She had forgotten what he looked like without a shirt on and had to stop her mouth from hanging open at the sight. She wanted to ask how he can be so nonchalant about Liam’s things, but she figured it was just his coping mechanism to pretend he didn’t care, to mask just how much he hurt inside. She would catch him every now and then, when he thought no one was looking, and see the pain behind his eyes and that blank look he had when his mind was far away. She hated when she caught him looking like that, because it must have meant she looked just as bad when she thought no one was looking.   

“I guess the boat doesn’t have a lot of storage…” she figured, making her way across the apartment to her room and leaning against the door jamb. 

“Nor a washing machine,” he answered, fluffing the pillows on the couch before sitting down on it. 

“You’re okay on the couch, then?” Emma asked, noting that his feet hung off the end last time he slept there. 

“Unless you’d like me to join you in the bedroom, Swan,” he raised his eyebrows at her with a smirk and she immediately regretted asking him that question. She wouldn’t mind having him wrapped around her in bed, his firm chest against her back and muscular arms around her waist. She missed having a sleeping partner, but she couldn’t trust herself around Killian, let alone in a bed with him.  

“The couch is fine,” she gave him her standard no-bullshit face and turned towards her bedroom, closing the door behind her, but leaving it slightly ajar, “Goodnight!”

* * *

 

He woke up in the middle of the night to some strange sound. At first he thought it was a rodent of some kind, but the noise wasn’t coming from the kitchen. He sat up and looked around in the darkness, willing the sound to make itself known, and this time he heard it more clearly, only it was coming from Emma’s bedroom. His head turned to look at the door and his heart sank when he heard the noise again. Was she awake and crying, or was she having a bad dream? As he got up from the couch and headed towards the bedroom, he had a distinct feeling he would be in trouble for this in the morning. Please _don’t be doing anything dirty right now, Swan, I swear to God_. 

“Emma?” he whispered into the darkness as he poked the door open. He heard her whimpering in the bed but had to allow himself a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, waiting for the larger shapes in the room to make themselves known. He crept forward, knowing he would eventually hit the bed, but didn’t want to startle Emma if she was still asleep. 

“Swan?” his voice strained to remain a whisper at this point as he tiptoed towards the distraught sounds she was making. By the time his knee hit the edge of the bed, he could see her form and managed to reach her shoulder to nudge her lightly. 

“Emma,” he shook her shoulder and saw her head thrash back and forth, “it’s just a dream, love,” his voice reached normal speaking volume at this point, because he didn’t want to see her like this any longer. He sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned over her so his shoulders were square with hers, and it wasn’t until he had hold of both her shoulders that she opened her eyes and she gasped. 

Startled, Killian let her shoulders go and leaned back away from her, but her arm came up and snaked around his neck to pull him back. Emma brought his face down towards hers so their noses were almost touching. Every muscle in his body was tensed and her actions made him wonder whether she was actually awake at this moment. 

“You’re okay,” she whispered with a sigh of relief, her hands cupping the sides of his face now, “You’re not--” 

She kissed the corner of his mouth then his cheek before pulling him down on top of her in a hug. 

“I thought I _lost_ you,” her voice waivered against her ear and Killian maintained an uneasy feeling that something still wasn’t right. She sounded out of breath like she had been running and her chest was rising and falling quickly underneath him. The kissing and nuzzling his neck was also a change of pace for them. 

“I’m here, love,” he whispered, stroking her hair, “It was just a dream.” She started crying against his neck and he could feel a tear drop down along his collarbone. He gulped, trying not to join her in this sorrow, this horrible feeling that your life must be a nightmare and you were waiting to wake up. 

“Your CO came to our door and I just-- God, Liam, we had a _wake_ for you, and your brother--” Killian released Emma immediately upon hearing her call him Liam, realizing she was still mistaken. 

“Killian,” she whispered with a look of horror on her face at the error she had made, at the realization that her nightmare was very real. Emma covered her mouth as she began to silently sob in the dark. He could see her shoulders raising with every deep breath she had to take and it made his chest hurt like every struggling breath was just as difficult for him. God, he wished it was all just a bad dream. 

“I’m sorry, Emma,” his voice cracked as he tried to hold it together, but he could feel a tear falling down his cheek and he reached out for her, “I’m sorry I’m not him,” he said softly, hoping she wouldn’t reject his comfort at this moment, because he needed it as much as she did. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More complicated lusty + guilty feelings occur

The sunlight was streaming in through the curtains, casting a light over the bed in fragmented rays. Emma could sense its reflection off the white bedspread even with her eyes closed. Before she opened her eyes she let the absolute comfort and well-restedness wash over her, so she could appreciate it before anything in her day could ruin it. She hadn’t slept that well since before he was gone. She was moving in the bed to stretch out her limbs only to realized the solid weight beneath her, a chest rising and falling. It took her a minute to remember what happened in the middle of the night and how he must have stayed there holding her, until they had both fallen asleep. 

After this brief moment of panic, she opened her eyes to look up at him lying there with his jaw slack and his forehead free of worry lines that seemed to constantly populate when he was awake. He looked so different like this, so content, she didn’t want to wake him just yet. Let him enjoy a few more moments of escape from troubles of the conscious world. While studying his face, she noticed a faint scar on his right cheek, just below his eye, and she made a mental note to ask him how he got it. She almost reached up to trace it with her thumb but resorted to smoothing her hand over his expanse of chest hair, looking for other small marks and clues to what made him who he is. 

It was strange exploring this new person, getting to know him and finding all the ways he differs from his brother, a person she thought she knew really well. But, she noticed not only were their colorings different, the same life events and experiences were perceived different. Killian’s fond memory of the day he was tricked into getting a tattoo probably differed greatly from the tale Liam remembered, if he remembered it as a significant day at all. It made her wonder just how different two people with the same upbringing can have, and if their similarities that made her fall in love with one, would it cause her to fall in love with the other as well? 

“Are you watching me sleep, Swan?” he croaked, opening one eye to look at her while the other remained closed, a smirk spreading across his face as he startled Emma out of her daze. His hand ran through her hair gently like he had suddenly regained use of his limbs. She realized her fingers were still idly playing with his chest hair and as she started to move it, she saw his eyebrow raise. He caught her again, so she resolved to simply leave her hand there on his chest, resting just above his heart.

“No, I was just...thinking,” she replied, slightly embarrassed that he caught her staring and thus unable to look him in the eye. 

“I apologize for staying the night in your bed, love, but when one is being used as a pillow, it would be rude to simply leave,” Killian commented with a smirk on his face, nodding slightly at her current state of resting on him. At this, Emma sat up and smiled shyly while turning a particularly dark shade of red for being so comfortable sleeping in that position. It was strange to feel so comfortable in this intimate space with him, a space that used to be reserved for her and another man. She tried to smooth her hair out but he caught her hand, telling her to relax,

“You look beautiful, Swan,” he reassured her, letting her hand drop before wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her against his side like they did this every morning. Emma opened her mouth to respond but no words came out. After a few minutes she settled comfortably against him, trying not to smile too noticeably, and resisting the urge to drop her head against his shoulder. _Why does this feel so right?_  

“I’m sorry about last night,” she said after sitting comfortably in silence for a few minutes. She pulled away from him a bit so she could look at him in the eye, only to find him looking mildly confused. “For kissing you…” she tried to explain further, like maybe he forgot, but at that he just smirked and raised his eyebrow at her. 

“Nothing we haven’t done before, Swan,” he squeezed her shoulder lightly, pulling her back against him only to receive a light punch in the pectoral muscle as a result. 

“Also for all that stuff I said to you when I got home. I had just had a fight with Ruby and--”

“What did Ruby do?” he tilted his head in interest, seeming unconcerned about everything she had yelled at him yesterday, but furrowing his brow at this fight she had with Ruby. Emma shook her head, not wanting to tell him anything further. She couldn’t tell him what Ruby said. She tried to put on a smile, like it was really nothing, she shouldn’t have mentioned it, but he wouldn’t let her get away with that with him. 

He could tell it was something that really bothered her, so he wouldn’t let it go. He squeezed her arm again, tilting his head even farther to try to meet her eye, try to get her to look at him. 

“Hey,” he whispered, his face inches from hers and wracked with concern, “what is it? You can tell me.” His head dipped to press his lips against her forehead lightly, sending a wave of warmth through her. Emma sighed and took a deep breath before speaking.

“I was telling her and Elsa about how you’ve been helping with all the Liam stuff, and she just said some things that were really...awful,” Emma looked up at him, half hoping he wouldn’t ask what Ruby said, but at the same time she wanted to tell him, wanted to know what he thought. She watched his adam’s apple bob up and down slowly, like he was already prepared for what was coming. 

“About Liam?” There was anger behind his eyes, like he was ready to be outraged, expecting the worst. Emma shook her head and looked down towards his collarbone, unable to hold his gaze while he tried to piece together what the fight was about. But, even without looking at him, she could tell he was smiling, like the muscles in his neck were telling her that he was grinning boastfully because they were talking about him. She had to dart a glance at his face to be sure. 

“You didn’t want to tell me you were defending me in a fight with Ruby?” 

“Why are you smiling about that?” she pushed him, mildly annoyed that he thought this was funny, “She said some shitty things about me... _and_ you. I wasn’t defending you, geez.” Emma pushed him again, not wanting him to look at her. She could feel her cheeks burning as she resisted the urge to tell him what exactly Ruby had said. She also wanted to validate getting up and leaving brunch for what Ruby said, even if she had thought about those very things herself. 

“Oh, you were defending _us_ then, love?” His smile got wider with smugness and she tried to push him away again.

“Will you _stop_? Not like that, though she was surprised it _wasn’t_ like that.” Why was she still giving him details about this?  
“To be fair, love, it has been like _that._ ” 

“Only when alcohol is involved,” she rolled her eyes, remembering very clearly the two times alcohol has been heavily involved in their sexual and near-sexual interactions. Killian’s grin disappeared from his face, like he was dropping the act and speaking as his real self now. 

“I don’t need alcohol to want you,” his voice dropped to a husky whisper that gave Emma chills, changing the tone in the room from lighthearted to serious in a heartbeat. His eyes were looking at her lips and she felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room. His fingers grazed along her jaw before cupping her face in his hand, inviting her closer to him. 

She drew in a breath before his lips met hers, steeling herself before delving into sexual entanglement with Killian Jones, but this time was different from the last. He was tender and slow, softly sucking on her lips rather than devouring them as he did before. It only made her more interested in what this gentle side of him was like, so she kissed back, swiping her tongue against his lips so they parted, allowing to explore him further. Every touch of his hands to her skin spread warmth through her body that she had moved one of her legs between his, half straddling him in wanting to be closer to him. 

When she took a breath and broke away from his lips, she felt a smile creep upon her face, unable to help it as she pressed her forehead to his. He had a wide grin on his face that made her bite her lip it was so beautiful. He nipped at her lips to continue, asking for more of this bliss, and she obliged, tilting her head so their lips could meet once more. The soft scratch of his stubble against her chin sent sparks across her skin. She wanted to feel more of him, cupping his face with her hand so she could trace the scar on his cheek, telling him she noticed, telling him she wants to know more. 

It was then that her cell phone began buzzing, and her lips stopped against his, frozen like they had been caught. 

“Leave it,” he whispered against the corner of her mouth, and her heart sank as the buzzing continued. 

“They’ll leave a message,” he mumbled against her neck, leaving soft, wet kisses down to her collarbone that spurred on the heat rising low in her belly. When the buzzing stopped, Emma let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in, allowing Killian to return his lips to hers, nipping at her lower lip again like she was being bad. 

The phone buzzed twice to signal a voicemail was left.

“See,” he murmured into her mouth, slipping his tongue against hers and pulling lightly at her hair. It sent a zip of electricity down her spine, this gentle push and pull that left her needing more of him. She finally moved her leg over so she was fully straddling him, allowing her to lower herself against his boxer briefs and feeling some much needed friction between her legs. They both let out a sigh at the same time on contact, feeling the other’s interest and knowing it wasn’t one-sided anymore, it wasn’t a drunken mistake this time. 

Her phone started buzzing again, and Emma unmounted him, grabbing her phone to make it stop. 

“It’s Ruby,” she huffed, out of breath and trying to regain some composure before answering. Ruby was particularly good at sensing things when it came to her friends’ love lives, that it was laughable she actually interrupted one in the making. Before Emma pressed ‘Accept’ she scooted to the edge of the bed and stole a glance at Killian, who was comfortably resting against the headboard with his arms folded behind his head. He wasn’t looking at her and she felt like it must be because he didn’t want to intrude. Emma bit her lip and pressed the screen,

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Were you sleeping? Did I wake you up?” 

“Not really, it’s fine,” Emma glanced nervously at Killian again who was now smirking at her with his eyebrow cocked like he was fully intending to continue what they were just doing before the phone rang. It was funny how much just a look from him could insinuate. It made her stomach flip and she realized she wasn’t entirely listening to what Ruby was saying.

“...about your relationship with Liam. I know it wasn’t fair to say you were with the wrong brother, it was just a dumb comment I made. I didn’t mean to--” Emma’s heart sank for an entirely different reason, when she realized her phone might have been on a high enough volume for Killian to have heard just exactly what Ruby was saying, _if_ he was listening. Emma glanced at him again to find the smirk had disappeared from his face. 

Shit. 

Emma frantically pressed the volume button on the side of her phone, hoping to reduce the likelihood of him hearing anything else, but the damage had already been done. Her heart was pounding in her chest as her veins filled with nervous energy. She just wanted to end this conversation with Ruby. She couldn’t even bear to look at Killian now, impatiently waiting for Ruby to finish speaking so she could accept her apology. 

“Ruby, I gotta go. We’ll get dinner sometime this week and talk about everything, okay?” 

She went to put her phone back on the bedside table, not realizing she had shifted further down the bed and away from Killian throughout the conversation, hoping he wouldn’t hear the contents of the call. So much for that. Resigned, Emma got up and placed her phone on the table before sitting back down on the edge of the bed, her back still to him.

“That’s why you were yelling at me about Fleet Week,” his voice was low and grovely, almost like his words came out in a growl but not as vicious, “you wanted to know if you really had made a mistake?”

There was pain in his voice like it hurt both of them so much to even think, let alone _say_ , such a thing about her relationship with Liam, but it was too late. His hand covered hers on the bed, and she turned to sit next to him, letting his arm slip around her shoulder again. But this time she didn’t settle comfortably against his side with a smile but instead remained stiff and cold next to him. 

“Did it feel like a mistake to you before?” Emma didn’t say anything but stared blankly ahead, eyes fixed on a point in the distance. She felt hollow like she was simply filled with nothingness and all the feeling had been sucked out of her. She had no idea what she felt anymore, after what has happened over the past few weeks, both with losing Liam and with her growing closeness with Killian. It all muddled the emotions in her chest like it was too much to distinguish what was real, what was right. 

“I don’t know anymore. I thought I was happy with him, but now I don’t...know anymore.” After everything she’s learned about Killian’s feelings for her, and her subsequent confusion about how she feels for him, she doesn’t know what was a true memory and what she’s looking back on now as false perspective. What about her life with Liam was even true and real? What did she actually feel now that she’s gone back and reanalyzed every moment they’ve had together and every event they've spent together with Killian? Was she projecting on the past or was she remembering things wrong? It was too much. She couldn’t think any longer. 

Her breath is caught in her throat and suddenly it feels like she can’t breathe. She’s suffocating and his arm around her shoulder is heavy, only spreading heat across the tension in her back, making her feel even more trapped and uncomfortable. She slides out from under his arm and stands up, crossing her arms and attempting to take a deep breath that doesn’t seem to help at all. This was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. What was she even doing playing house with Killian and kissing him and allowing them to pretend like nothing had happened, like Liam basically never existed or like what happened at the wake never occurred. What were they _thinking_? The overwhelming guilt mounted pressure in her chest, making breathing even more difficult, like she was trapped underwater without an oxygen tank. _God, Liam._ Somehow she fell into these moments with Killian where it was like they weren’t working through the pain of losing him but instead were simply enjoying each other’s company. How could they just let something like losing Liam slip their minds? Every time she caught herself not thinking about it, the guilt would chew away at her like she wasn’t mourning properly, like she wasn’t acting how a ‘widow’ should act, like she had screwed everything up. She was doing it wrong, because all of this with Killian definitely wasn’t right. 

“I think you should go,” she mutters coldly, unable to look him in the eye when she says it, because she just can’t bear to see the pain building behind his eyes and that spark of light fade from his irises. Her eyes were fixed on the edge of the bed as she noticed a blur of his legs swinging over the side and stand up. She felt his form hovering next to her, his gaze boring into her but she couldn’t look. She just heard him mumble in a painfully low voice,

“You know...you’re not alone in this, Swan.” It felt like he stood there for a full five minutes before he gave up and walked out of the room. The shapes in front of Emma blurred with tears as she stumbled back under the covers, hiding away from the light of day and closing her eyes once she heard the front door slam shut. 


	5. Chapter 5

Emma took a deep breath. She slapped her hands against her thighs in to get them to stop shaking, but it didn’t help. Nothing was calming her nerves over this dinner with Ruby. She thought about having a glass of wine before meeting her friend but didn’t have the time between work and the restaurant to stop anywhere. Her legs started jiggling on the subway and she had to stand up. If she could pace around the subway car, she would, but it was 6:30pm on a Tuesday on the Red Line. It wasn’t happening with this many people crowding the car. 

Two more stops. At least she wasn’t on the Green Line, then she’d probably prefer _running_ there just to rid herself of these jitters, to get this confession over and done with, to stop _picturing_ Ruby’s reaction and actually witness it. She couldn’t stop her brain from imagining all the scenarios and possible things Ruby could say in response to what Emma was about to tell her, and most of them were terrifying. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the images, the worst case scenarios. Her knuckles were turning white she was gripping her purse so hard. 

 _Stop. It’ll be_ fine. 

* * *

“You _what?!”_ Ruby’s voice rang out through the restaurant, causing a few tables of patrons to turn their heads in interest. Whispering and conversation resumed after a few moments of realizing it was just another loud diner having a conversation. Nothing out of the normal in Boston. She was probably drunk. That always seemed to make them louder. But to Emma it felt like everyone was staring, waiting for her response, like the entire restaurant hanging on their every word and commenting on it like it was their own private dinner theatre and Emma was the star. 

“I’m sorry, _when_ did this happen?” Ruby’s hands were flat on the table from slapping it in her first outburst, knuckles curving slightly like the hands were preparing to take off again. Her eyes were wide with interest, a fascination with what Emma was telling her like it was the wildest thing she’d ever heard. Her pupils were so dilated Emma could barely see the blue of her irises. Emma had seen Ruby excited before, but this was something entirely different, like Ruby was looking at Emma in a whole different light and Emma wasn’t sure if she liked it. At this point at least, Emma was relieved Ruby wasn’t judging her. Yet. 

Emma screwed up her face trying to hide the growing flush on her cheeks before she told Ruby further specifics, wincing preemptively for another yelp from Ruby.

“After the wake?” Her wince caused one of her eyes to close and she was squinting out of the other, not sure she wanted to see Ruby’s face. She wasn’t sure if she could handle another repeat of her words for all the restaurant to hear. Maybe doing this in public was a bad idea. 

“Hang on, hang on,” Ruby put her hands up, trying to grasp the situation before it got even more out of control. Emma had barely told her anything and Ruby’s smile was widening into that wolfish grin she gets when they, as Ruby puts it, ‘finally get to the good stuff’ “You sleep with your dead fiancé’s brother on the night of his wake?”

At least Ruby had the decency to lower her voice when she said it.

“ _No_ , no. No. No, we didn’t sleep together. No. He just--” Emma wondered how obvious it was that she was trying to take a deep breath and prevent her cheeks from turning and even darker shade of scarlet. 

“We kissed and that’s--” she stopped herself from lying again. After all she was having this dinner with Ruby to _tell_ her the truth. Might as well get it all out now. She started wincing again before she said the words,

“He went down on me.” She tried not to end the sentence like it was a question but sometimes it was hard to admit to herself that that actually _happened_. 

Oh, but it did. 

She spent a good amount of her time lying in bed at night or before getting into the shower trying very hard to _not_ think about what happened, trying not to work herself up into this overwhelming mess of lust and arousal and guilt that encompassed every fiber of her being when she caught herself thinking of Killian. The amount of energy she spent avoiding the thoughts of his mouth on hers, of his hand tugging at her hair just hard enough to send a pulse of heat through her body. What she wouldn’t do to get those vivid memories of the light scratch of his scruff between her thighs, of his tongue lapping at her like he was craving only her and couldn’t get enough. If she could forget those thoughts, those _details_ that have been burned in her memory, she might have been able to sleep more soundly the past few weeks, or been satisfied with her own hands trying to mimic his ministrations. 

But much to her chagrin, she couldn’t stop thinking about him, couldn’t stop waking up in the middle of the night writhing in her bed, having thrown the covers off her body in attempts to cool down from whatever luscious dream her subconscious had served her that evening.. She actually found herself wondering if moving into a different apartment would help her forget what happened, if she didn’t have to walk into that bathroom every day and be reminded of the events that occurred there. Of course that was a bit too extreme of an action to take, but something inside her still screamed how wrong it was to have these thoughts about him, to have even experienced what she did with him so soon after losing her fiancé. The whole situation was rather absurd. 

“Damn,” Ruby’s eyes widened again before she took another sip of wine in preparation for her next question, “Is it because he’s similar to Liam?” 

“No, it’s not like they share the same sexual history. They’re just brothers.” Emma covered her face in embarrassment, realizing once again she is the only person who has overlapped in the Jones brothers’ sexual history now, and the guilt washed over her once again, making her heart sink into her stomach. 

In fact, Killian was so different from Liam in the sex department that it was intriguing. Yes, they had similar qualities, such as the ginger hairs interspersed throughout their beards, the way they rolled their eyes, that Jones swagger, their unique scent of salt and rum spices that when they embraced you, it felt like an ocean breeze ensconcing your senses. But what was different was that underlying need Emma felt at all times to be close to Killian, itching to feel even one ounce of what he makes her feel when she’s around him. Something deep in her chest that makes her feel comfortable and settled when he’s around but also make her heart beat erratically at his proximity. She was always content with Liam, perfectly happy, but she never felt that strong desire for him that she felt for Killian, and that difference scared her. 

“Maybe this isn’t as bad as you’re making it out to be,” Ruby took Emma’s hand to try to calm her nerves, nudging a glass of wine in her direction. “Did you ever think that all Liam would want after he’s gone is for you to be happy and for his brother, who he practically raised, to be happy, and if that means the two of you together then it’s like killing two birds with one stone? And maybe he’d be okay with it, because you two found each other through shared grieving of his passing like it was sort of meant to be? It’s not like you had planned it, it just happened. The circumstances kind of pushed the two of you together and it’s kind of beautiful that you found this thing between you in the midst of all this sorrow. I don’t think anyone can judge you for that.”

Emma sat there stunned for a moment, blinking a few times trying to take in everything that Ruby just said while also in awe that it was _Ruby_ who just made sense of Emma’s situation for her. 

“Wow, Ruby, that was...kind of perfect,” Emma felt a laugh bubble out of her, her head feeling a bit light and dizzy at the realization that being with Killian might not be as blasphemous as she originally thought. Ruby simply tilted her head with a smile before picking up her glass of wine in congratulations to herself for being so brilliant.

“I’m more than just a pretty face, you know.” 

* * *

It had been a week since she heard from him. She couldn’t blame him but it still made her worry. When Saturday rolled around and weekend brunch was approaching, Emma began to weigh her options. Ignore it, ignore him, pretend like she’s not concerned or sorry for how things were between them. Or... _do something_ about it. She paced the apartment, attempting to muster the willpower to go see him. Why hadn’t he just annoyingly showed up at the apartment at all this week? Emma glanced at the closet still filled with Liam’s Navy civies. Why were they still there? What had he been packing up all this time that it didn't include a majority of Liam's clothes? 

Given an excuse to visit Killian, she piled the clothes into a box, hastily jamming them in without folding or anything. Killian would likely balk at the wrinkles when he opens the box, giving Emma a little thrill imagining his face. On the way out the door she had a thought; she could bring a bottle of rum as a peace offering of sorts. It would certainly make him more amenable in these circumstances. Dropping the box she darted to the bedroom to grab a bottle, only to find the case of rum gone.

“Cheeky bastard,” she muttered under her breath, cursing Killian for having taken it all without telling her. Of course that’s the one thing he decides to clear out of the apartment. Well now she _really_ had a reason to visit him: she wanted some of that rum back.

* * *

The ship was rocking slowly back and forth, lulling him back to sleep, convincing him it wasn’t time to wake up yet. It was one of the reasons he loved sleeping on the water: its calming and comforting nature. The sound of the waves lightly crashing against the dock as his own personal white noise machine also helped. He could be halfway across the world from where he grew up, but if he was on a boat, he was home. 

Then there was an unnaturally high rock and dip of the boat, not a wake from another ship passing but a single shift in weight towards the dock side. Someone stepped aboard. He groaned in frustration, hoping his senses were off, that no one was in fact coming to disturb his peaceful respite here on _The Jolly Roger_. He grasped blindly towards the bedside table, hoping his hand would come in contact with the bottle of rum that resided there, but his hand came up empty. Cracking an eye open to check, he saw the bottle was in fact not there, and he tried to think of the last time he had gotten out of bed. 

There was a small knock on the cabin door...as if stepping onto his ship wasn't already intruding.

"What?" he shouted through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching in preparation for imminent social contact. He wasn't feeling very chatty. 

"I believe you have something of mine," Emma spoke as she opened the cabin door, not waiting for his invitation inside. Her hips swayed with the rock of the boat as she entered the room like she was purposefully enticing him. 

Well, it was working.

On her way towards him she spotted the nearly drained bottle of rum on the dresser. 

"Ah-ha!" she gasped triumphantly, picking the bottle up and observing its near-emptiness. 

"Been busy, have we, sailor?" in attempts to raise an eyebrow like he always did, she raised both brows and added some saucy look he's never seen on her before. His altered mind state begged for her to drain the rest of the bottle and crawl into bed with him with that look on her face. She must know what she was doing to him. His body strained from fighting against his urge to sit up and invite her closer, he slumped further down into the mattress.

"Found what you came for, then?" he grumbled, alluding to disinterest in this entire visit and settling his eyes on the remainder of rum in her hand rather than meet her mischievous eye. 

"Not quite..." her words drifted off as her eye wandered the room, searching for something. Killian then noticed the box she had left outside the cabin door. Her excuse to come over or Liam's actual belongings? Growing impatient with this game of hers, he sat up in the bed and spoke clearly.

"What is it you _want_ , Swan?" 

There was an overstated edge in his voice, an irritation with her presence that he didn't mean to convey, because, really, if he could always have her around, he would, but not like this, not this back and forth game of 'are we or are we not?' where neither of them can decide what is is they are _doing._ He'd withstood it long enough. 

Her head whipped around to face him, brow furrowing and face softening into this hurt look a wounded animal would have. _Don't give me that look, Swan. Not now. Please._ He already wanted to reach out to her, comfort her and tell her he didn't mean to say it in that tone. He didn't. He really didn't. It was like his arm raised up of its own volition, reaching out to her to come sit on the bed, even at arm's length it would be better than her standing there awkwardly. She hesitated, glancing at the box in the hallway as if she couldn't start this conversation if she didn't have her props, but finally decided to sit down at the very end of the bed. It reminded him of the last time they were in this exact arrangement, right after they were kissing each other senseless that morning she decided to answer her damn phone. And then overhearing Ruby say that...he felt his jaw clench involuntarily. Why couldn't this just be easier?

"You haven't been by the apartment in a while," she started quietly, breaking the silence he was too deep in thought to notice. 

"Yeah," he mumbled, staring at the bottle of rum again, wondering what the remains of its contents would taste like on his lips, the burn of it down his throat. Maybe if he had that, it would be easier to talk about this. Maybe just a little. 

"And you took all the rum," her voice ended on a higher note like she was trying to make light of this. She must have felt how heavy the tone in the room felt, laid on thick like it was hard to breathe when they had to actually talk about it. 

"It belonged to Liam," he tried to shrug but his body didn't actually move. He felt still and trapped inside this moment with no escape again. _Liam is gone, in case you forgot_ his body was telling him. 

"And me," Emma said in a defensive tone, reminding him of her existence in this again. Like he could ever forget. He just shook his head and couldn't help but crack a smile. _And her_. Right, because she and his brother were engaged to be married and looking forward to sharing everything in their lives with one another. So everything that was his was also hers. And yet again, he was jealous of his bloody brother.

"I didn't know you shared his taste for rum, love," his face always blushed just a little when he used that endearment with _her,_ specifically because he knew that he meant it when he said it to her. He may use it with all sorts of people he interacts with in his life, but when he uses it with her, he can't help but feel the tips of his ears go pink and the blood rush to his cheeks. 

"Well, not nearly as much as you do, but for special occasions I like to have a stash of it." Her nose wrinkled when she said stash and the vision made his heart jump. It was beating rather erratically already.

"You don't think your visit to the _Jolly Roger_ warrants a special occasion drink?" He couldn't help but raise his eyebrow at her with a smirk and a tilt of his head that suggested she scoot closer to him and pour the rest of that bottle between them to share. Killian leaned over the side of the bed to open the bedside table cupboard and pull out two glasses. Joining in the flirtatious and fun tone Emma conceded,

"Any visit with you is a special occasion in my book." Even though she was saying it jokingly, simply trying to match his banter, her low whisper of this statement to him made the conversation screech to a halt. Killian stopped what he was doing, holding the two tumblers in mid air between them. Emma quickly emptied the bottle between their two glasses, spilling some on the comforter in the process of trying to hide her feelings. He gulped when he saw the blush blossom on her cheeks and her eyes dart to his mouth for a split second. He could see her mind working, trying to figure out how much of that sarcastic comment did she truly mean. Even something said in jest is based in truth. His mind churned, trying to think of something to say to make this moment less awkward, less obvious that he wanted to pull her against him and tell her he felt the same. His eyes lingered on her lips a moment too long that she caught his gaze. His body frozen in place, muscles stiffened and his nerves on edge. Emma straightened up and opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it and shrank back down.

"Say it," he encouraged her, knowing she probably had better things to say than he did at the moment. He wanted to know what she was thinking, wanted to know if they were on the same page at all.

“Everything that's happened between us...don’t you feel guilty?”

“That’s what the rum is for,” he shrugged, moving his glass slowly in a circle so the contents would swish around like a small tornado in his hands, “so I don’t have to feel anything.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he looked up from his drink so she could see he wasn’t joking around this time. His throat felt sore and scratchy as the words came out, like it was a challenge just to say them. It hurt. Surely she, more than anyone, could see him rapidly deteriorating, his face becoming gaunt and the circles under his eyes growing darker each day. He very much wished to feel nothing, and rum was his best solution in that endeavor. But it only did so much.

“I have spent over a year feeling guilty over my feelings for you, Emma. I was guilty every time I was in your presence and over every inappropriate thought thereafter. I admit I may have acted on my feelings at a rather inopportune moment, but I don't regret making them known to you.”

His head was spinning and his vision dark like he had forgotten to breath during this confession, his chest constricted and heavy with the weight of any guilt that still remained. He may be tired of feeling guilty but it didn't mean he didn't still feel something there that felt like a betrayal to his brother, niggling at him in the back of his head. But he pushed it away. He was gone and those thoughts should be, too. They've both suffered enough from his loss. Why shouldn't they be happy together now?

Emma still sat silently on the edge of the bed, uncertainty humming off her body like a barrier between them. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her arm move but not towards him. His heart momentarily leapt with the anticipation of her touch, of agreement that they could move past this but only sank once more when he realized she wasn't making any motions towards him. 

She was chewing her lip and her face was scrunched in concern, likely contemplating his confession while battling her own feelings. Even as a blur in his vision he could tell her brow was furrowed deep in thought. She was considering _something_ , but what he had no idea.

“What about Liam? What would he say if he were still here and found out?”

A smile played across Killian’s lips like he knew he shouldn’t be smiling about this when Emma’s brow was so furrowed.

“If he were here, he would say,” his tongue darted out to wet his lips and smile briefly at the idea of Liam’s reaction to all this, because quite frankly Killian thought he’d find it a bit hilarious, “I can’t believe it. My little brother has finally found a woman who prefers him over me. I never thought it would happen, but I’m almost proud. A little disappointed in her taste, but what can you do?”

Tears had been building behind Emma’s eyes as he was speaking for Liam, and laugh bubbled out of her at his final sentence causing a tear to spill down her cheek. She had kept her gaze on the space between them on the mattress, very carefully avoiding his eye. But as the tear fell, Killian reached out his arm, inching his body closer to her in order to gently wipe the tear away with his knuckle. She looked up at him and he heard her breath catch in her throat with surprise, like she forgot he was there until he touched her.

"I won't make any decisions for you, but it would be nice to know your feelings on the subject," he whispered to her in a gravely voice as his eyes alternated between her eyes and lips. She took a deep breath in as if she were about to speak but he stopped her, "whenever you're ready." He finished, running his thumb down the curve of her cheekbone to cup her chin. As much as he wanted to, now was not the time to kiss her.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHA SORRY THIS TOOK ACTUALLY SIX MONTHS TO CONTINUE uhh i went through some stuff where I didn't feel in the right emotional state to write any sort of happiness into a story so I couldn't go in the direction I wanted to with this fic until I personally was ready to write it. So that took a while. BUT NOW ITS HERE. It's not the last chapter, but hopefully this will make up for the long hiatus, and I'm hoping it won't take me as long to write another chapter after this ahha

 

_ "I won't make any decisions for you, but it would be nice to know your feelings on the subject," he whispered to her in a gravely voice as his eyes alternated between her eyes and lips. She took a deep breath in as if she were about to speak but he stopped her, "whenever you're ready." He finished, running his thumb down the curve of her cheekbone to cup her chin. As much as he wanted to, now was not the time to kiss her. _

\--

“Fuck it,” he said as his hands cupped her face, and he nearly leapt out from under the covers so he could free himself from the restraints of the sheets. He pressed his mouth against hers urgently, needing to feel her response back, needing her to either shove him off or move her lips along with the rhythm of his. He needed to feel something after all this  _ talk _ , after all this hesitation and walking on eggshells. After the initial moment of shock, her hand was in his hair, pulling him closer to her, agreeing with this direction he decided to take things. 

But, as quickly as he descended upon her lips, he retreated, pulling himself away from her just an inch, just a sigh away from a yes or a no. 

“I can stop,” he whispered, his breath falling against her parted lips while his eyes studied her face for a signal. Her fingers were gently scratching at the base of his skull, twirling the short hairs between her fingers and causing a shiver to run down his spine. The simple yet intimate action only fueled his desire for her. He felt Emma exhale as she shook her head ever so slightly. His eyes returned to her lips as she leaned into him, kissing him so gently and so slowly, that he could live in that small, tender moment. Their lips barely touching, but it was just enough to feel the spark of connection between them, just to show their affection simply without wanting the gesture to ever end, floating on the precipice between together and apart.  

Their bodies both tensed against each other when they finally broke apart, holding onto one another and afraid to let go. Her hands roamed over his body, from grasping his hair to caressing his back, from tracing the curves of his shoulders to combing over the planes of his chest. Her hands never stopped exploring his body like they had minds of their own. Gods, he didn’t want her to ever stop. 

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed against her lips, his breath staggering on the exhale because it took so much power to hold back everything he was feeling. Everything had rushed to the surface once he decided to let go and just kiss her. He couldn’t help it. He liked her too much just to not try kissing her now, once, and just see what happened. The worst she could do was hit him and he would fully deserve it. He told her to take her time to make a decision. He was willing to wait. His feelings just got the best of him for a moment. 

“Do you want me to go,” he whispered again, fully realizing they were on  _ his _ boat, but he had to be sure, he didn’t want to pressure her into anything, didn’t want to deny her the ability to stop at any moment during this. Her hands were flat against his chest and he was sure she could feel how rapidly his heart was beating. It scared him so much, what he felt for her. 

She exhaled roughly again, her body swaying with his as her head shook from side to side. It was so slight he couldn’t tell if it was from the boat rocking or her response, so he asked again.

“I can go,” he said softly, his voice just below a whisper while his eyes were trained on her for a response. She kissed him, inhaling sharply through her nose as she sucked at his upper lip, pulling him towards her with a gentle tug of her lips. 

She had so much pain weighing on her and a kind of hurt that felt drilled deep into her soul. On most days it felt too difficult to go about normal life without thinking about it, without it being the first thought on her mind. But then there were the days she saw Killian, days when she talked to him, or something reminded her of him, and the weight pressing on her felt just the tiniest bit lighter. When she’s with him, it’s almost like the weight has been lifted, like nothing had ever hurt her before or ever will again because he was there. And there were times she was with him that she was reminded of Liam, and that pang in her chest would strike her like a fire poker to the heart. But the strike would soften each time, because they would both never forget him, never let his memory dissipate from their minds, and there would be those precious moments where they would think of him at the same time and cherish the shared thought, their shared love for him. Each time it would hurt less, because they both understood what it was like, they were both going through the same thing, and it was impossible not to feel connected because of that. 

“I don’t want you to stop,” she whispered against his lips between kisses, unable to part from him for more than a breath. Stopping meant thinking things through and contemplating what this means and  _ gods, she was so tired of thinking _ . She wanted this. She wanted  _ him _ . He made her happy in this time in her life where it felt like she couldn’t and wouldn’t be able to move on. Was she just supposed to say no to something that made her feel good? That made her feel  _ this _ good amidst all this pain and heartbreak? 

He flipped them over so his nearly naked body was hovering over hers, and her legs instinctively wrapped around him, gently pulling his body down against hers. She didn’t even realize it until she felt his hips press into her and the bulge in his boxer briefs brush the space between her legs. The sensation made her legs spread wider allowing his body to press more firmly against hers. She didn’t even realize she was doing it until a groan escaped Killian’s throat. She looked up at him to see the dopiest smile plastered on his face. It was infectious; she couldn’t help but smile in return. 

“What?” she asked with a grin spreading wider across her face. She suddenly felt self-conscious and giddy at the same time. He leaned into her, allowing his body to rest on top of hers and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. She couldn’t help but wonder what it was about that gesture that made it feel all the more intimate between them. He considered her face, looking her over like he was checking for something, all the while that silly grin was on his face. His mouth moved down towards hers but then he stopped.

“Where’s your phone?” 

It took her a moment to even remember where they were let alone where her phone was. 

“In my purse--”

“Turn it off,” he said it as a command but with a knowing smile, like he was preparing for whatever was going to happen to last a long, long time. The tone of his voice made her legs tighten around his waist and she didn’t want to get up and out of this position to do what he said, but she also knew what turning her phone off meant. 

It’s like they had the same idea at the same time as Killian rolled over so Emma was straddled over top of him. A deep, throaty laugh erupted from her once she settled her hips over his, grinding down just slightly against him before rising up and hovering over him seductively. A low growl from deep in his chest came out when she pressed herself against him, but it turned to a whimper upon her distancing herself from him. Now she had the power and she wanted to take a moment to enjoy it before letting him take control again. 

“What did you want me to do?” She feigned innocence like she didn't know the precarious situation she held them in, threatening to press herself against him once more in a tantalizing fashion. Killian’s mouth opened but he was at a loss for words as his hands drifted over her hips, gripping them with an intention to guide her into contact with him once more. She felt his fingers press into her skin with purpose and she bounced on her knees once more, demonstrating the distance that existed between their bodies, taunting him to do something about it. But his grip on her went slack. 

“I forget,” he replied, blankly staring at neckline of her shirt, able to see the outline of her bra cups beneath the thin cotton and wondering if the clasp could just undo itself if he stared hard enough. Emma’s weight shifted above him again as she went to reach for her phone -- that’s right, she was going to turn it off, now he remembers -- and Killian’s hand followed the curve of her back leaning towards the side of the bed where her purse was. In fact, both hands explored underneath her shirt, feeling the the smooth skin of her back and the toned muscles beneath it, until he reached the ever important piece of clothing that held her bra together: the clasp. As Emma finished her task of switching off the phone and leaning back towards Killian, he flicked the clasp of her bra, opening it in one quick motion.

The moment she felt the release of pressure of her bra fastening, her hands fell to her waist so she could swiftly pull her shirt and bra off in one go. Once the fabric cleared from her vision she watched as Killian’s expression changed, his mouth dropped open, and he stared in awe at her. He had seen her naked before but this wasn’t like last time. Now, they’re taking their time, she’s actively participating in this, they both  _ want this _ . He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as she leaned down towards him. Her hand cupped his face and gently pressed her mouth to his before sucking his lower lip between hers lightly. She was so soft in her ministrations, delicately pushing her tongue against his lips to explore his mouth, the gentle caress of her nipples against his chest as she moved over him, and the press of her core onto his. All of it was slow and tender like she was savoring every detail of it, how his chest hair tickled the sensitive skin of her breasts, and the taste of rum on his breath when her tongue entered his mouth, the sound of him exhaling roughly against her face when he took control, wanting more. 

For such a long time they kissed, tongues and mouths exploring each other, hands roaming but never invading beneath clothing, just gripping body parts in desperate need to have their bodies closer. Just touching wasn’t enough, they needed to  _ press _ together every inch of skin they could in effort to aid this itching desire to be together. She would grind against him, pressing herself against his cock searching for the friction they both needed but not wanting to take that next step to full nudity, wanting to feel the desire they had for each other but not quite ready for the next level. 

He flipped them over so he was on top, allowing more room for him to explore her body with his mouth. It made her nervous, like they were going to reach the same point they did at Liam’s wake. Even though it had already happened, she was afraid again. She didn’t know of what, she was just  _ scared _ of that intimacy with someone again. But his mouth was nowhere close to her hips. His lips were sucking the skin of her neck, pressing his tongue right against the vein so a shock of pleasure ran through her. It took her by surprise that she had such a erogenous spot right there on her neck. She doesn’t remember any other time someone kissing her neck has made her feel that way. Emma pressed Killian’s head against that place once more and moaned in satisfaction. It felt nearly as good as if he were between her legs. 

Nearly. 

She still itched for him to touch her there, needing a release and knowing she couldn’t get it this way. 

But fuck, she was scared. 

His head moved further south of her neck, teasing her nipples in a way no one else had before, just letting his lips move back and forth over them lightly before pulling away to kiss another spot of her abdomen. She exhaled in frustration and elation. This was going to kill her.

Why did it feel so  _ good _ ? 

He made his way around her torso with small kisses, teases at her nipples, nips at her skin, and she thought surely she couldn’t withstand this much longer. He kissed the spot right above the waistband of her jeans before unbuttoning them. They managed to get her skinny jeans off without taking her underwear with them and now she felt truly bare. Such a small, thin bit of fabric was separating him from where she wanted him most (and feared to have him go). She felt lightheaded from all the heavy breathing, almost drunk with pleasure even though she had gotten nowhere close to orgasm. He kissed her skin right above the waistband of her underwear now, looking up at her before peeling a bit of the fabric back and kissing just an inch lower. He looked up at her again and she tensed, her hands quickly covered his at her waist and she nearly winced at herself for doing this. 

“I don’t-- I really-- I’m not sure I want to just yet, this soon…” she stuttered out some form of this sentence. Well, she  _ wanted _ to she just wasn’t sure if she was  _ ready  _ to...with him...so soon after….

He nodded in understanding, covering her hands with his and making his way back up her abdomen,

“We can go,” he kissed her lips.

“As,” he kissed below her jaw.

“Slow,” he kissed that spot on her neck that made her shiver, surely sucking on it before moving on to her next body part.

“Or,” he kissed her collarbone.

“As,” he kissed her left nipple.

“Fast,” his tongue flicked her right nipple and circled her areola before sucking on the nipple lightly.

“As you want,” he finished with a press of his lips against hers. It was the most frustrating and arousing thing he had done yet. His pure patience and concern for her to be comfortable was just so beautiful and thoughtful, she couldn’t stand it. She gripped the base of his neck and pulled him towards her in an animalistic need for him to be closer to her, hoping his body would fall against her sso she could wrap her legs around him tightly and hold on for dear life.

He kissed back with fervor, letting his weight fall on her and his tongue press into her mouth to circle hers. She made sure to kiss him for a good long while so he could understand she wanted him but not completely, not tonight. 

When their mouths finally separated it made a small pop and Killian continued his journey down her body, kissing and teasing along the way, taking his sweet ass time in the process. Once he arrived at her underwear again, Emma felt that churning nervousness in her stomach that she wasn’t ready for. He lifted one edge of her underwear up so he could kiss the spot of skin beneath it and then did it with the other side, slowly moving fabric out of the way to plant innocent kisses on her skin. His hands had yet to touch anywhere actually between her legs while she was probably the wettest she’s ever been. 

Her body tensed in anticipation of what he’d do next. After each kiss he planted on her skin he would look up and meet her eye, make sure she was enjoying herself, maybe he did it to torture her further because she had no idea where he was going next. She wanted scream; it was too much and not enough. 

“God you're killing me with this,” she exhaled in frustration, arching her back and letting her head fall back against the pillow in defeat. 

“I hope not yet,” his warm breath hit her skin, a puff of air against her most sensitive area when he laughed at her expression of disbelief. 

_ Get it over with _ , she wanted to say, but at the same time, his going slow and taking his time only built up her desire, made this experience with him more unforgettable. 

His fingers finally hooked around the sides of her underwear and slid them down off her legs. The pulse between her legs raced, like it was screaming out to be touched. The blood was pounding in her ears as she was finally entirely exposed to him. 

Her eyes intently followed his every move, not feeling ready for whatever was going to come next but wanting it all the same. He kissed his way up her legs but never making his way towards the inside of her thighs. Interesting route he was taking, she thought. His mouth skipped over her upper thighs entirely in favor of her torso and her breasts until his hand came between her legs and she forgot everything she was worrying about. 

“Fuck,” she breathed when he sucked at her neck and spread her open with his fingers. Her legs drop openly slowly before he massaged her clit with skill. The build up was definitely worth it.

In return, Emma reached down towards the waistband of his boxer briefs, hoping to feel his desire for her, but he blocked her hand.

“No, this is all about you,” he said it so surely, like he wasn’t expecting the same back from her at some point, but he just wanted to make her happy. And she honestly didn’t know how to react to someone putting her first like this without expecting anything in return. 

He waited for her head to fall back comfortably on the pillow before he continued what he was doing between her legs, expertly building her pleasure up just enough before changing techniques. 

“Shit,” she was breathless and her mouth felt dry. She couldn’t think she was so dizzy with pleasure she would just occasionally look up at him, unsure as to whether what was happening was real or not.

She needed him inside her, needed to  _ feel _ him, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen today. Like with most men, she was waiting for the appropriate time to fake her orgasm, assuming he wouldn’t be skilled enough to get her to finish, but then he slid two fingers inside of her, curling them upward and massaging her clit at the same time. 

_ Okay, he seems to know where the G spot is, too. _

Killian isn’t like most men, she was very quickly finding out. 

It didn’t take long with this combination to get her raising her hips up towards his hand, arching her back, and pulling his mouth towards hers in need of thanking him with her lips. She felt the wave of pleasure begin to rise, her muscles tighten, but she wasn’t sure about experiencing orgasm in front of someone new just yet. She held herself on the precipice until she recalled Killian had already witnessed her fall apart at the talents of his tongue not long ago, and she let the orgasm wash over her body, waves crashing over her body over and over. Her legs were shaking and she could see stars in her vision. He slowly removed his fingers but massaged her through to the very end until the very last wave hit her. The room was spinning in the most pleasant way and she felt high on the amount of pleasure she just endured. She knew she was uncontrollably smiling and lightheaded, but Killian looked to be very much in the same mood; pleased with himself but also overjoyed to see her spirits raised. 

He left to wash up and she watched him saunter out of the room, looking in a much better mood than when she found him in this cabin not long ago. She sat up and took a swig of rum from a tumbler on the bedside table, admiring the look of her naked body, thinking she definitely still got it. Were they ignoring their issues at hand entirely by deciding to delve into a physical relationship with one another? She wasn’t sure, but she knew at this moment she didn’t care how this looked to anyone else. All she knew was that she was happy for the first time since Liam died, and she was going to chase that feeling. When Killian came back into the room he had the most beautiful smile on his face as he leaned against the doorway, taking in the view of Emma’s form after being thoroughly pleasured by him. 

She didn’t seem to feel the need to cover herself up with a sheet like most women do after sexual acts, and he admired her confidence. While he very well knew he cockblocked himself earlier, he wanted to make it clear that her happiness, her  _ pleasure _ , was important to him, so when he got back onto the bed and climbed over top of her, they resumed exactly where they left off. Her legs wrapped around him once more as he thrust himself against her, rubbing slowly and pointedly back and forth over the same sensitive area while holding her eye. They resumed kissing, falling back into a familiar rhythm while his hand returned between her legs. Emma was shocked he was trying to get her to multiple orgasm; shocked and extremely turned on. 

She suddenly felt  _ very _ ready to have sex with him. 


End file.
